by Beth K. Vogt
Such were Johanna’s apologies.
“I don’t want an apology . . . Wait.” Jillian forced herself not to think too far ahead. To ignore the way her skin flushed hot, then cold. “What do you mean, you were pregnant? You’re not pregnant anymore?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m still pregnant.” Johanna skimmed her hand down the front of her loose-fitting top, revealing her slight tummy bulge. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I—I just misunderstood.” Time was slipping by. She should have texted Payton and added something else to the list. Grapes, maybe. “Jo, we . . . I . . . Let us adopt the baby.”
Johanna, who had started to take a sip of water, stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Let Geoff and me adopt the baby.”
“You’re telling me that Geoff changed his mind about having children?”
Jillian paused, a yes so close. But she would not lie to her sister. “Not yet.”
“Ah.” Johanna’s smile was twisted, the single syllable weighted with so much meaning. “Jill, even if Geoff did change his mind at some point, why do you think I would let you adopt my baby?”
“I heard you tell Payton that you weren’t sure if you were going to keep the baby . . . and we . . . I want the baby.”
She was flubbing this. Didn’t sound calm. Wasn’t acting calm. She wasn’t convincing Johanna of anything. How would she ever change Geoff’s mind?
Jillian’s fingers ached. She eased the pressure of her hands, releasing her grip. Took a step back, the kitchen counter pressing into her hips. Today, all she had to do was get Johanna to listen to her. To at least consider her request. Then everything else would fall into place.
Johanna gave a quick shake of her head. “I can’t let you and Geoff have the baby.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve decided to keep the baby.”
She couldn’t have heard her sister right. “You don’t want to be a mother, Johanna.”
The words hung in the air between them—an accusation.
“I admit this isn’t how I planned on starting a family. I’d imagined being married first.” Her sister cut off a laugh. “Old-fashioned, I know. But that didn’t happen. And now I’m pregnant and no one else is going to raise my baby.”
“Not even me, Jo?” Oh, how pathetic she sounded, begging Johanna for her baby.
“No, Jilly. Not even you. Especially not you.” Johanna closed her eyes for just a moment, her shoulders shifting in a silent sigh. “Don’t you see how complicated this would be? My son or daughter would call me ‘Aunt Johanna’ instead of ‘Mom.’ And one day we’d have to explain everything. We’d have another family secret.”
Jillian’s spine stiffened. “Oh. Now you’re worried about secrets. How convenient.”
“It’s my right to raise my child.”
Johanna’s words were swift. Effective. Jillian had no rebuttal.
This conversation was a throwback to high school debate class. She’d always disliked how she needed to be ready with a comeback to the opposing side’s argument. She’d been more of a researcher. The fact-checker, not the star at standing up to the opposition and fighting back.
Johanna fisted her hands as if readying herself for a combat. But Jillian had no right to fight with her.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Payton’s voice sounded from the front room. “The traffic was awful from Castle Rock.”
It seemed one of Jillian’s prayers had been answered.
Payton swept into the kitchen, several cloth grocery bags swinging from her arms. “I got the orange juice like you asked for, Jill, and the bagels and cream cheese. I grabbed some fresh berries—” Her younger sister stopped. “What’s going on?”
“Our sister wants to adopt my baby.” Johanna flung the words between the three of them.
“That’s impossible since you’re—”
“It’s impossible since I’m keeping my baby.” Johanna blew out a breath. “I come in here and apologize for keeping all of this a secret—”
Jillian would not let Johanna twist this morning into her own story. “You did not come here this morning to apologize. You only apologized when you thought I was going to ask you to.”
“I certainly never expected you to ask to adopt my baby.”
“A few weeks ago, you didn’t even want it.” Jillian spoke the words through clenched teeth.
“I do now.”
“If that’s your decision, Johanna, of course Jillian and I will respect it.” Payton stood between them, still holding the grocery bags. “Mom and Dad, too, when you tell them.”
Jillian forced herself to nod in agreement.
Payton might as well have been her debate partner, standing up to concede the win to the other team. Not that there was any rebuttal to what their older sister had said.
Decision made.
Johanna had the one thing Jillian wanted—and she had it by accident.
“It’s probably best if we change the subject. Redeem the rest of the morning.” Payton gave a forced laugh as she began unloading the groceries. “Anybody else hungry? Want coffee? Um, sorry, Johanna. I know coffee’s not sitting well with you right now.”
“I’ve been trying tea . . .”
“Tea?” The word spurted from Jillian’s mouth. “You never drank tea, even when Mom tried to give it to us when we were sick.”
“Ginger tea seems to help ease the nausea some.”
“Shouldn’t the nausea be ending? How far along are you?” Payton opened the cupboard, causing Jillian to step aside.
“I’m out of the first trimester, but the nausea is lingering—”
“Really?” Jillian couldn’t hold back the protest. “We’re doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“We’re going to start talking about Johanna’s pregnancy like it’s normal? No big deal?”
“My pregnancy is normal. At least that’s what Dr. Gray says.”
“Who is Dr. Gray?” Payton retrieved a trio of plates from a cupboard and then selected three glasses for the juice.
“She’s my obstetrician, and according to her, so far everything looks good.”
“Did she give you a due date?”
“Yes. The end of August—August 30.”
Jillian was being ignored. Again. Did Johanna even remember what they had been talking about just ten minutes ago? Did either of her sisters consider how this conversation might hurt her? Realize she didn’t want to hear this?
Payton’s and Johanna’s words blended together. Today was not going to be about books, but about babies.
Johanna’s baby.
Jillian murmured a brief “Excuse me,” escaping the kitchen and then exiting the house altogether, shutting the front door on the static of her sisters’ conversation.
She needed a walk. A long walk.
Head down, hands stuffed in her jean pockets, she almost passed Gianna’s house without hearing her neighbor calling her name from where she stood out in front.
“Jillian! What are you doing outside without a coat?”
“What?”
“Where’s your coat?” Gianna tugged on the collar of her maroon jacket.
“I . . . I don’t know . . .” Seconds later, she burst into tears.
“Jillian!” Gianna stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. “What’s wrong?”
“My sister is pregnant.”
“O-kay.” Gianna patted her back like a mother soothing a distraught child. “Is something wrong with the baby?”
“I wish . . . I wish I was the one who was pregnant. I wish . . . the baby was mine.” Jillian pulled back just enough to rub her hand across her face, unable to look at her friend. “Aren’t I horrible to say that?”
“No, you’re not horrible!” Gianna’s arms tightened around her for another moment. “Come on. Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To my house. Neil took Avery to his parents’ for the m
orning. I was going shopping, but I feel like a cup of coffee instead.”
“My sisters are at my house. They’ll be looking for me.”
“You weren’t worried about that a minute ago. Have a cup of coffee. Calm down—or go ahead and cry if you want to. And then, when you’re ready, go back home and face your sisters.”
Jillian allowed Gianna to loop their arms together and lead her into her house. The walls were painted a warm blue, and like her own living room, there was a fireplace. But Gianna’s mantel display consisted of an arched wooden mirror positioned against a taller wooden frame and what looked like antique milk containers. Even in Avery’s absence, a few toys were strewn on the carpet.
Jillian sat on the couch while her neighbor made the coffee. Just sat. No thinking. No talking.
Gianna returned carrying a wooden tray, setting it on the low coffee table. She handed Jillian a mug of coffee and then motioned to the items on the tray. “Sugar—and all the other not-sugar options. Milk. Sorry, no cream. It’s the best I can do. And if you like it black like my husband does, then just ignore all the folderol, as he calls it.”
“Thanks.” Fixing her coffee allowed her a few seconds longer to settle her emotions. “I’m sorry I interrupted your quiet morning and your chance to go shopping.”
“I’ve been hoping we could have coffee. Spontaneous works best sometimes.”
“If you call me falling apart on the sidewalk outside your house spontaneous, then sure.”
“We all have our moments—and sometimes we can’t avoid having them in public.” Gianna raised her coffee mug. “Besides, it was just me.”
“I—I couldn’t stay in the house while Payton asked Johanna how far along she is . . .” Jillian brought the mug up to her lips but stopped herself from gulping the hot liquid. No sense in burning her mouth on top of everything else that had gone wrong this morning.
“I don’t blame you. Knowing how much you want a baby, that had to be painful.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. I usually get lost in the middle of the two of them.” And that was a bit more honest than she’d planned on being with her neighbor.
“You’re the middle sister, then? I’m the baby in the family. Always fighting to be heard above the roar of the crowd.”
“Then you understand.” Jillian cradled the mug in her hands. “Our relationships have always been complicated, but I’d hoped things were improving. Maybe that was wishful thinking. And now this. I don’t know if I can get excited about Johanna having a baby.”
“You don’t have to. I mean, why should you pretend to be okay?”
“But Johanna will get upset—”
“Is Johanna the only one who’s allowed to get upset in your family?”
“It feels like it sometimes.” Jillian didn’t know if her statement surprised Gianna, but if her sisters were here, they’d be shocked. “Did I just say that out loud?”
“I’m not recording this conversation.”
“Isn’t my being upset like this selfish?”
“It’s being honest.” Gianna leaned forward, setting her coffee aside. “And sometimes we have to admit our feelings—even the less-than-nice-sounding ones—so we can work through them. You’re not happy about Johanna’s pregnancy. Why?”
“I told you why.”
“Tell me again.”
“Because I want to have a baby and I can’t.”
“There. You said it, and the world didn’t fall apart. There was no huge cosmic gasp of disapproval. You’re not an awful person, Jillian, or an awful sister, because you want the same thing your sister has.”
“It doesn’t do me any good to say it. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Okay, so nothing changes. What about just being honest? Giving yourself room to breathe? Have you ever thought that you and Johanna can both be right?”
“Tell that to Johanna.”
“I would, but I’m not having coffee with her.” Gianna grinned, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder. “It’s okay to want a baby and to struggle with your sister’s pregnancy. It doesn’t mean you don’t love her.”
“I don’t like her very much right now.”
“Fair enough. And that’s also not the end of the world. You’ll figure this out. It may not be today . . .”
“It won’t be today.” There was another bit of honesty spoken aloud.
“Fine. It won’t be today. But that’s okay. It’s normal to be upset with your sisters sometimes.”
“How did you get so wise in the way of sister relationships, Gianna?”
“Well, I have two older brothers—two very loud, opinionated older brothers. I had to learn how to hold my own with them. But my best friend all through high school had four sisters, so I got to watch that dynamic up close. I learned a lot.”
“Did they get along?”
“No—at first, some of their fights used to scare me.” Gianna laughed as she picked up her coffee again and relaxed in her chair. “But then I learned that you did not cross the Goldhahn sisters. If someone hurt one of the other sisters, those girls closed ranks and were a formidable force to face.”
“Johanna, Payton, and I? We’re just learning how to trust one another. Johanna’s pregnancy kind of knocked me off-kilter.”
“I imagine it did the same thing for Johanna—not that I’m saying you have to worry about her right now. Take care of yourself.”
Take care of herself.
Maybe it was time she stopped feeling guilty if she did that.
Jillian had come home from Gianna’s to an empty house. No Payton. No Johanna. The groceries put away. A note on the kitchen counter.
Sorry we upset you. Call me. Please. Payton.
She wouldn’t call Payton. Or Johanna—not that Johanna had left a note asking her to call.
She couldn’t explain herself to either of her sisters, so there was no use trying.
And she hadn’t wanted an apology from Johanna when she’d arrived for book club earlier this morning. She’d wanted something more. Something impossible.
Where was all the hope she’d talked about just a few weeks ago? Choosing a word to focus on for the year didn’t make it so. How did she hold on to hope, ensure she had enough of it for what each day held, when nothing changed? When each day presented her with another no?
It was like the time her family had gone camping in Rocky Mountain National Park and her dad tried to teach her to build a fire. He’d instructed her to stack the kindling and smaller to larger sticks just so. One careful step at a time. But when she tried to light the flame, she failed. Again and again, the tiny spark went out before it had a chance to catch hold and burn. In the end, she’d abandoned her attempts. She couldn’t do it, no matter how hard she tried.
Exhaustion stayed with her like her shadow, although it never shifted, never altered with the time of day.
It was no surprise that here she was again, curled up on the couch with Winston cradled in her arms.
Awake and alone.
Jillian gathered Winston closer as if he could warm her, his furry body limp as he snoozed in her arms. His soft ears tickled her chin. At least one of them was resting.
Months ago, she’d traded positive thoughts scrawled on scraps of paper and stored in a glass jar, a gift from her best friend Harper, for faith. But maybe faith wasn’t enough either.
At the sound of the back door opening, Winston stirred in her arms and sat up with a sharp bark, jumping off the couch and running through the house.
“Hey, good boy. How ya doing?” Geoff’s laughter mixed with Winston’s barks. “Jillian, you here?”
Of course she was here.
Winston’s barks quieted as Geoff let him out to the backyard, closing the door. His footsteps came closer. Stopped. “Jillian? Hey, I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?”
“No.”
“Oh. You didn’t say anything.”
“I’m tired. That’s all.”
“Busy morning with bo
ok club?”
“We didn’t have it.”
Geoff came around the couch, kneeling in front of her. “But that’s why I went to the coffee shop—to give you space. Did your sisters cancel or something?”
“No. Johanna got upset—”
“Again? Is she always going to complain about the book you’re reading?”
She rolled from her side onto her back. Pulled herself to an upright position. “No. I got upset and walked out.”
“Okay.” He pulled off his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Now I’m confused.”
“Johanna and Payton were talking about Johanna’s pregnancy, and I didn’t want to hear it. It’s too hard to listen to.”
“Johanna made a decision about what she’s going to do?”
“Yes. She’s keeping the baby.” Jillian forced herself to say the words. Maybe the more often she said them, the less the truth would hurt. “But no matter what decision Johanna had made, I would have been upset, Geoff.”
And here she was again, explaining herself to Geoff. Communication déjà vu. Why was it so difficult for him to understand?
At her words, Geoff stiffened. Stayed where he was. No move to comfort her. No words of understanding.
They were, once again, moving to their appropriate and oh-so-familiar positions—away from one another.
Geoff shifted his glasses back into place. “Why are you letting this bother you, Jill? This isn’t your problem.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. I understand you were hurt Johanna didn’t tell you first—”
“This is not about being first! I’m not sure she was going to tell me at all, especially if she hadn’t decided to keep the baby.”
“But she did decide to have the baby. And it was Johanna’s decision to make.”
“Everybody gets to make their own decision but me.”
“What?” Geoff’s brows furrowed, disappearing behind the frame of his glasses.
“I said, everybody gets to decide what they want to do but me.” Jillian enunciated each word.
“I don’t understand.”
“Johanna gets pregnant. She decides to keep the baby. To raise it herself. That’s her decision. But it hurts me to think about it.” She weighed her words before speaking them. “You . . . you’ve decided you don’t want children. And that hurts me even more. Because I do. I do.”
